


One Day I'll Show You The Stars

by HaleysHeaven



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 11th Doctor, Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Feels, Season 2 Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, The Doctor - Freeform, The Fall - Freeform, Third Person POV, sherlock is a kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 08:51:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3844735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaleysHeaven/pseuds/HaleysHeaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes has an uncle with an unusual name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day I'll Show You The Stars

 

"Sherlock, this your uncle, The Doctor." Sherlock's father said to five year-old boy.

"What kind of name is The Doctor?" Sherlock asked snottily brushing his dark curls out of his face..

"A name I chose." The odd man in the bowtie replied.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. The Doctor crouched down to eye level and looked at Sherlock.

"I can help you with your experiments."

Sherlock's eyes lit up and he pulled the Doctor towards his room. That was Sherlock's first of a limited few days with the Doctor and he spent it dissecting different bugs and birds.

"Goodbye, Doctor. See you soon." The young boy called from the door in his pajamas as the man with the bowtie walked down the street. The Doctor nodded and smiled sadly at the young boy.

_One Month Later_

"Sherlock?" The Doctor called as he bounced into the house of the Holmes family.

"Doctor!" The young boy shouted and ran down the stairs, but skidded to a stop when saw what the Doctor was wearing. "Aren't those the same close you had on last time?"

"Hmmm... It seems that way."

Sherlock didn't mention it again and played pirates with the Doctor until lunch.

"Ayee matey, isn't time for lunch?" The Doctor asked blocking Sherlock's jab with his own foam sword.

"Arrr!" Was Sherlock's reply and they went down to eat.

"Seen any monster lately, Sherlock?"

"Monsters?" Sherlock scoffed. "They aren't real."

"They are very real."

Sherlock squinted his eyes at the Doctor and cocked his head, deducing him to the best of his five year-old ability, trying to see if he was telling the truth. He appeared to be and Sherlock was sastisfied with that.

The sun set sometime later and the Doctor took the young boy outside.

"Sherlock see the stars and planets?"

"Yeah."

"One day I'll show you the stars."

"How?'

The Doctor smiled and put the boy on his shoulder's and started naming the planets and the stars. Sherlock took it all in memorizing every detail as he gazed at the shining lights that lit up the night sky.

Sherlock had fallen asleep on the ground next to the Doctor and he took the little boy inside and tucked him into bed. The Doctor kissed Sherlock on the forehand and whsipered goodnight before walking out to his blue box.

_Two and a Half Years Later_

Sherlock was turning eight today. He hadn't seen the Doctor in almost three years and he didn't expect to see him.

Sherlock had had a small party with his family and couple kids from school that didn't ridicule him and that his parents had invited. The other kids had left and Mycroft, fourteen and insolent, had gone up to his room to study for his college classes when the Doctor arrived.

"Hullo Sherlock."

"Good afternoon Doctor."

"Sherlock I am sorry, I was traveling." Sherlock just nodded, but knew there was more to 'just traveling'. "I brought a gift." He handed it to Sherlock and he carefully unwrapped it and opened the small box. Inside sat a little black rectangle. When Sherlock picked it up he felt a seem through the middle of it and he tugged on the two halves and it turned out to be a magnifying glass.

"Thank you, Uncle Doctor."

The Doctor went down the meet Sherlock's eyeline and said, "Just Doctor, Sherlock."

Sherlock smiled and from then one the Doctor made sure to visit the young boy at least every month. Sometimes he brought friends, like the red haired lady and the big-nosed man.

During Sherlock's tenth year the Doctor made a promise.

"Doctor?"

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Promise me you will always be there for me."

"Of course Sherlock."

"Thank you Doctor."

Then one year, Sherlock's fifteenth year he stopped visiting. It broke his heart and it stayed broken. Sherlock turned cold and callous, because his best friend had left him even though he had promised he would always be there for him.

That was the year he adopted the nickname "Freak" from Sally Donovan.

That was the year he started solving murders.

That was the year he adopted Mycroft's "caring is not an advantage" lifestyle.

That was the year Sherlock, deleted the stars and the planets.

_12 Years Later_

The bowtie man watched from the distance as the sandy-haired man with the limp entered St. Bart's, the pudgy man following.  _He had better be good to Sherlock_.

The bowtie man, turned and walked away, entering the newly empty blue box with one last forlorn look to the hospital.

_Inside the hospital..._

“Bit different from my day.” John commented.

“You've no idea.” Mike replied.

“Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine.” Sherlock called as he peered into a microscope.

“And what's wrong with the landline?” Mike asked, seemingly used to this.

“I prefer to text.” Sherlock said in the same passive voice as before.

“Sorry, it's in my coat.”

“Er, here, use mine.” John said, holding his phone out to Sherlock.

“Oh, thank you.” Sherlock replied, but not really sounding that greatful.

“This is an old friend of mine, John Watson.” Mike introduced.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock said after glancing at John for a moment.

“Sorry?” John blinked and looked very confused.

“Which one was it? In Afghanistan or Iraq?” Sherlock asked impatiently.

“Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you...?”

“Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you. What happened to the lipstick?” Sherlock asked, a bit interested, but not really.

“It wasn't working for me.” Molly told him.

“Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now.”

“...Okay.” Molly looked a bit hurt, but Sherlock either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“How do you feel about the violin?” Sherlock asked, turning to John.

“I'm sorry, what?” John was still baffled, but this strange man.

“I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometime I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.”

“You told him about me?”

“Not a word.” Mike responded with a hint of a smile.

“Then who says anything about flatmates?”

“I did. Told Mike this morning I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch, with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap.” Sherlock said, using his passive, uninterested voice again.

“How did you know about Afghanistan?”

“Got my eyes on a nice little place in central London, we ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash, I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary.”

“Is that it?”

“Is that what?”

“We've only just met, and we're going to go and look at a flat?”

“Problem?”

“We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting, I don't even know your name.”

“ I know you're an Army doctor, and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. You've got a brother worried about you, but you won't go to him for help, because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic, more likely because he recently walked out on his wife, and I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic, quite correctly, I'm afraid. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think? The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon.”

“Yeah, he's always like that.” Mike said, letting his smile show.

_Two Years Later_

Sherlock stood on St. Barts his flapping behind him as Moriarty's body lay on the pavement behind him, crimson blood stained the ground.

"Goodbye John."

"No, don't. SHERLOCK!"

His body fell from the building and he moved his arms as if to sav ehimself, but he couldn't. He had jumped and there was no going back.

"Sherlock?"

Time seemed to slow down for both Doctors. For the one on knocked to the ground and the one in the shadows, tears streaking down his face.

"I'm a doctor, let me come through. No he's my friend. He's my friend, please."

The Doctor cried harder at John's broken voice and quiet words that pleaded with the people around him.

Sherlock Holmes was dead and the doctors were broken.

  _A Week Later_

"You... you told me once that you weren't a hero. Umm, there were times I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man, the most human... human being that I've ever known, and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so there. I was so alone, and I owe you so much. But, please, there's just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be... dead. Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this." John buried his face in his hands, letting himself grieve for a moment before pulling himself up and standing tall, ever the solider.

 John walked away stiffly, not noticing the lanky man or the blue box he stood in front of.

"Sherlock Holmes." He started, but his voice cracked and a tear slid down his face. "You were the little boy who I promised to show the stars. Do you remember when I told you: One day I'll show you stars. It was a promise and it was never kept and that is my fault.

You were a pirate and a scholar. You were the little boy who was able to deduce and learn calculus before the others could count to twenty. You and I expiremented together. We spent so much time together, but not as much time as we spent apart and I am truly sorry for that.

I'm so sorry I left you. I just couldn't bear to lose anybody else.

Sherlock, I lied to you so many times and I am so sorry. I never got the chance to apologize for leaving... And you know I hate endings, so I guess... See you soon Sherlock Holmes."


End file.
